


of ruined reputations

by damnmysterytome



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6391156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnmysterytome/pseuds/damnmysterytome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A knock at the door brought a very welcome distraction, even if she couldn’t afford one. She stood to her feet and walked over to the door, standing on her toes to look through the peephole. “Frank?” She whispered to herself, stepping back before she unlocked her chain and deadbolt before opening the door.</p><p>“Good evening, ma'am.” Frank looked no different than the last time she saw him – covered in bruises and cuts, except he was in street clothes with a baseball cap on. “Can I come in?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to simplytherose / lightofpage on tumblr for helping me to name this fic! I'm currently working on transferring all the prompts I've gotten from tumblr onto AO3. The way I see it, the more fics in there, the sooner they make it an actual filter, right?

Karen Page sat at her kitchen table bent over her laptop, trying her hardest to get this article finished. Her deadline was soon and she probably should have been working at the Bulletin but the noise was so loud that she couldn’t focus. So she decided to work from home – which was so quiet she couldn’t focus. Funny how life was like that.

Writing had mostly come easy to Karen, but lately she’d been stuck with a huge amount of writers block that she could barely get over. Nothing she was writing was good enough. Hell, the things that she had written before didn’t even seem good enough at this point.

A knock at the door brought a very welcome distraction, even if she couldn’t afford one. She stood to her feet and walked over to the door, standing on her toes to look through the peephole. “Frank?” She whispered to herself, stepping back before she unlocked her chain and deadbolt before opening the door.

“Good evening, ma'am.” Frank looked no different than the last time she saw him – covered in bruises and cuts, except he was in street clothes with a baseball cap on. “Can I come in?” Karen nodded and stepped back, leaving the door wide open for him to come in. Frank stepped into her apartment, grasping the door frame and shutting it behind him. Karen stepped behind him and locked the chain and the deadbolt. “Place looks good.”

“It helps that no one is trying to shoot at me all the time.” She said, earning herself a chuckle from Frank. “No one is going to shoot at me tonight, right?” Karen asked. Frank turned around to look at her and shook his head.

“No, ma'am.” He said with a bit of an amused grin. “You got coffee?” He asked. Karen nodded and walked towards her kitchen, Frank following close behind.

“Job at the Bulletin is paying off. I even got a better coffee maker.” Karen said with a hint of a smile. She’d already had a pot brewed, it should still be warm. Karen found a mug in her cupboard and filled it with coffee before turning to hand it over to Frank.

He nodded a thank you at her as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips and took a drink from it. “I saw. You’re good.” He said, holding the mug in his hands. “I really enjoyed your piece about the dog fighting ring that police found.” Karen tilted her head in confusion. She had known that it had been Frank who killed the men involved in the dog fighting ring, but she hadn’t realized that her article had been the one that had gotten him to it.

“You read my articles?” She asked, lifting her hand up to the back of her neck. She rubbed the back of her neck and made a soft noise of discomfort.

Frank nodded at Karen, thinking back to the corkboard of Karen’s articles in his apartment. Sometimes they were articles he would then end up using to kill, others they were pieces he just liked to have on his corkboard to give him something to smile about. “Oh.” Karen said softly, glancing down at her feet.

“You alright? You seem really tense.” Frank said, pointing to the neck that she’d been rubbing.

“Just stressed. I have a deadline coming up and… I can’t write to save my life.” Karen said, waving her hand towards the table in the next room. It was covered in papers and her laptop. “And when I get stressed, I get really sore, just all over.”

“C'mere.” Frank ordered. Karen frowned at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t look at me like that, just c'mere.” Frank set his coffee mug down on the counter while she walked over to him, twirling his finger until she turned around and left her back to him. Frank lifted his hands and first brought them up to her shoulders, kneading and massaging her flesh.

 _Color me surprised_. Karen thought, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “Shit, that feels good.” She mumbled before she could stop herself. Frank chuckled quietly, his hands moving across her shoulder blades. “Can you do that while I write?”

Frank nodded and moved away from her and towards her living room. Karen grabbed her laptop from the dining room and walked into her living room, sitting down next to Frank on the couch. She sat with her back facing him, opening her word document and staring at it as Frank once again began messaging her shoulders.

The words flowed easier from Karen now that Frank’s there with his hands working every knot out of her. Briefly, she wonders if she can just hire him to sit behind her and rub her back whenever she wrote. Something told her that he’d do it, but she didn’t ask.

“I feel like I should include a note at the end; Writer could only coherent sentences when vigilante Frank Castle, better known as The Punisher, sat behind her and gave her a back massage.” Karen joked as she finished the article, staring at the sentences.

Frank laughed and his hands still continued to work her skin, even once she had sent the article off to Ellison and shut her laptop. “That would probably ruin my reputation a little bit, ma'am.”

“Right, don’t want anyone to know the Big Bad Punisher is a master masseuse.” She murmured with a grin on her face. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  
  


 


	2. i'm good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's hands stopped when the laptop moved off the couch and onto the floor. “Will you keep doing that?” Karen asked, turning her head back to look at him once she was sitting straight up again. It just felt really good and Karen needed it.

Frank's hands stopped when the laptop moved off the couch and onto the floor. “Will you keep doing that?” Karen asked, turning her head back to look at him once she was sitting straight up again. It just felt really good and Karen needed it.

“Yeah,” Frank mumbled. Karen was adjusting and moving around and Frank wasn't sure why until her shirt was coming off. Her pale flesh was available to him completely except for her bra straps and he cleared his throat for a moment before returning his hands onto her flesh.

He started kneading her flesh again and Karen's head bent back on reflex, the fallen strands of her hair from her bun fall against his face and he can smell her shampoo. Strawberries and mint, he thought. He swallowed and focused on the massage he was giving her. But that wasn't too good of an idea either.

Focusing on the massage caused him to focus on how her bare skin felt under his fingers. Soft and smooth, except for the occasional mole. There's two on her back, one on the small of her back and one between her shoulder blades. He liked them.

Frank pressed his thumbs between her shoulder blades and rubbed circles between them. The moan that escaped her throat caused his throat to tighten.

“You, uh, you hold a lot of stress in your shoulders.” He joked.

Karen laughed and realized that she had been leaning into him so much, lifting her head up and sitting up. “Call it the Devil on my shoulders.”

“Want me to have a chat with him?” Karen snorted and shook her head.

“No, I just want you to follow me around and rub my back for the rest of my life.”

Frank grinned, moving Karen's bra straps down her arms. He massaged the parts of her that the bra strap had been preventing him access before. Another moan escaped her lips and Frank's throat tightened again. Prevent any noise of his own.

“Where did you learn how to do this?”

The memory of where he learned this stings his eyes and it takes him a moment. “My wife.” He said. “Her pregnancies were hard, she had a lot of back pain. Had to learn how to make sure she didn't suffer too much.” Karen turned her head a bit but she doesn't look at him. She doesn't speak, she doesn't need to say anything.

“You can stop.” Karen said after a few more moments of the heavenly massage. Frank nodded and slowly, a bit reluctantly, pulled his hands away. His eyes turned from Karen's as she redressed herself. When he saw her face, her cheeks are red.

When she's redressed, Frank stands to his feet. “I should, uh, I should go.”

“Wait, why did you come here?”

Frank turned back to look at her and he stopped completely. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing there. At least not anymore. “Just needed to make sure you were good.” He lied. Or was it? He didn't know.

Karen licked her lips and nodded as her teeth dug into her bottom lip. Frank cursed her in his head for doing so. “I'm good, Frank.”

 


End file.
